She's an UnderdogJoe Jonas
by xbeautifulxangelsx
Summary: Ever since Remy was seven, she's been living in a world of silence secretly. But when Joe falls for her, things fall apart.


"Holy guacamole, Remy, it's beautiful!"

I cock my head, looking at it. Personally, I think I've done better. This… I swallow. It's that feeling you get whenever you're trying to be obvious without showing anything, but lying just to cover it up. "Thanks," I murmur quietly. I escape by leaving to wash my hands.

But I still return. The art teacher, Ms Becks, still hasn't left. It's her first year here and she's so extraordinarily hyper, she's practically one of us. She turns to me, suddenly concerned. "Are you sure you still don't want to go to the auditorium? You can still hang out with your friends," she adds.

I know. But I shake my head. "I think I'll just head home. Thanks, Ms Becks," I add and start cleaning up my station. After a moment she leaves the room to join everyone else.

I guess last month our school won a drawing to get a band over here. At first, everyone complained and wanted it to be at night, a huge party bash. But once they found who it was, they didn't care.

I don't care about any of it, really.

I hum to myself, cleaning up my station and I finally finish, to only stare at the painting. It's a dove with a black background and a silver chain around it's claw. It's trapped and trying to fly.

Don't they get I'm drowning here? I sit on a stool before my piece of art, simply starting and thinking.

If only I could really tell people, and not burst with my lies first.

If only I could try harder around others.

If only I had the strength and will power to run free.

If only.

I hate those words. If only.

Why? Because it's all I hear from my mother. _If only your father hadn't left. If only you hadn't been born._ The worst? _If only you hadn't been so stupid to run into that car and losing your hearing, you idiot!_

Yeah. I hear that about twice a day.

I chew on my nail, twisting and just… I sigh. Things will never change. I glance down at my clothes. My shoes are falling apart. I can't find any of my socks. My jeans are torn and stained everywhere- I covered it up with paint marks, but still. And my shirt is plain and yellow with a black tank under.

My hair is a mess, a dirty brown color that doesn't necessarily curl, wave, or get straight. It changes hourly, I think. Can't make up it's mind., I suppose.

I think about what Becks said. It's nice to be able to read lips. Took me two years to learn, but I'm an expert now. Thank goodness. That's how I convinced everyone to let me go to our public school.

"Dare you to try, to try and change my life. I'm daring you towards the impossible, dreaming you'll do the impossible," I hum to myself. It's weird, right? I can hear myself, sort of, but not others. And I write music, and lyrics.

See, I can hear- or feel, the vibrations of sound waves. If I'm touching a piano, I know what you're playing- same with all instruments. I can even play most- and know when they're out of tune.

I sigh, and put a cover over my painting. I'll pick it up some other time. I pick up my backpack and my other books, starting out. I can feel movement from the auditorium, but I'm choosing to walk away. I fumble for my ipod, because it has amazing sounds at high frequency that I can hear-

When I hit a wall and completely fall over, "aah!" I cry in alarm but it does no good as I land on my side with a wince. I heave an annoyed sigh sit properly, tucking my hair behind my ear.

I see a pair of legs but ignore them as I start to pick up. Whoever it is, helps and then standing, I finally see who it is. "Didn't you hear me?" He asks concerned. "I'm really sorry. Are you all right?"

"Hm? Oh, yeah. Fine," I shrug disinterested. Then I take in who he is, because he doesn't look familiar.

Tight pants, black band shirt, white suit jacket. Black hair and… really nice eyes. I really like his shoes, too. Very nice… I glance around, trying to see why I didn't see him, but I trip over my own feet in my clumsiness. But the guy catches my arm just in time. "Hey, there, are you sure you're okay?" He asks. "Maybe you need to sit down."

"No, no. I'm good, just distracted," I shrug. "It's nothing. I'm usually pretty graceful," I tell him with a nod.

He nods with a grin. "That's good. Don't want you hurting yourself." I blush a little. "Hey, I didn't see you out in the, uh- auditorium," he says.

"Um, right," I shift my backpack. "Yeah. Um, I'm not… into big crowds… or that kind of music. That is, I just… don't listen to it that much," I try to explain though I'm scared I'm babbling. Am I?

"Really?" he asks.

I think my face is heating up… "Um, yeah…" I see that he's staring at my hand and I look down- to see my ipod. "Uh… yeah. More classical, I'm afraid," I mumble. "It's, uh… cleaner. I mean- inspirational. Yeah." I scratch my head. "Did you, um, like the… music… band people?" I wince at how I put it and don't know why I'm keeping this awkward conversation flowing.

But he seems fine. Nice change for a while. "Uh, actually, yeah. Music's my life," he says simply, still wearing that small smile. I swallow. This is not going good… "So, what-"

The guy is cut off- did I mention he's cute?- by two other guys with guitars coming up. One has… well, bigger and curlier hair, and he looks younger. The other looks a little older with straighter hair. They look alike, brothers? "Hey, Joe, you never returned so-" The younger guy trails off, seeing me. "Oh, hi there," he says kindly.

"Um, hi," I manage and shift my backpack again. The guy- Joe?- is still holding onto most of my notebooks. Do I go, talk, or ask for them back immediately?

"So, did you enjoy the music?" The other one asks.

"Kevin," the first- Joe, elbows him.

"What? Can't we ask?" He asks innocently.

I have to keep my eyes moving to catch the conversation. "Um, I didn't go," I break in so they won't argue or anything. "Sorry. But I'm sure everyone really liked it. After all, the girls have been raving for weeks."

"Yeah?"

I suddenly feel uncomfortable. TMI, most definietely. "Well, most of them, anyways. Uh, yeah, so I should go…" Trying not to blush I start walking off.

I feel a hand on mine minutes later. Joe's holding my wrist and turns me around. "What, you ignore whenever a guy follows you?" He jokes.

My face burns. He doesn't know. "Uh," I cough. "I just… always thought it was um, rude, to uh, try and talk when the other people can't actually see your face."

"But what if they want to talk to you, face-to-face?" He gives me a funny smile and I'm still aware he's holding onto my wrist. His hands are warm, next to my cold arms.

"Uh," I stutter. "Then, um… you run after them?"

He grins. "Like I just did, then?"

"I… guess so," I say sheepishly. "Um, so did you want something?" I ask him, and pointedly look at my wrist. He notices and lets go with a grin.

"Yeah, actually. Your name, if you don't mind."

"What if I do mind?" I ask, giving a grin in return. I can't believe I just said that! Am I flirting? I don't even know him!

"Do you?" He asks in surprise.

I give a chuckle. "No, no, I don't. My name is Remy."

"No last name?" I shake my head with a slight smirk and he sighs. "Then I guess I'll have to get it out of you later. I'm Joe. My brothers Kevin and Nick," he points behind him where the two are walking towards us, talking and laughing.

"Um, well, then, officially hello to you all," I say as they come up. "But, uh, I should get going before all the others flood out or I'll never escape," I joke. "See you around," I nod my head to them with a slight wave and leave. I don't look back as I pull out my ipod- it looks weird, but I have the big earphones to use. It's a good excuse, on the street and all around, that I can't hear unless I'm facing them.

_Get it out of you later. _

_See you around._

I'm walking home when I realize that. We may see each other again. I chew on my lip, heading home. I give an impulsive giggle, unable to believe I just did that.

My cell vibrates in my pocket. I read the text and it's from Tylie, my best friend who lives in Canada. We met in a camp two years ago- for deaf children- and have been texting each other now and then since.

**Hey, chica, how iz life?**

I think for a minute. _**Good. Flrtd w/ boy, omg!**_

**Oooooo, FINALLY! W00t 2 mah girl, w00t**

I roll my eyes with a smile at her silliness. She eats way too much sugar, on top of having ADHD half the time- the other half, she's sleeping. Seriously. **RT. Hows all tere?**

We keep texting for the next twenty minutes as I slowly walk home. **Eeep, hom, mah hombre. Ttyl.** I end it quickly and step inside. "Hello?" I call out. But of course, I hear nothing. No vibrations, or floor slightly shaking from someone moving around. Either they're quiet and still, or just… not home.

I start on my homework while making lasagna for dinner. About an hour later, the twins get home and go outside to play football. Finally Melanie returns with mom from ballet and mom's quiet, meaning it's good. Everything is good.

Dinner's okay and I get out of washing the dishes. I go up to my room and lay on my bed, thinking about today. Michelle from AP English seemed to be mocking me because my voice is funny. And the other girls were laughing… I sit up and walk over to my mirror. "Hello," I try.

I _know_ I'm saying something, and I _know_ the words I'm saying, and I'm _positive_ I'm pronouncing it all correctly. Right? But then why would they make fun of me? I look at my neck to see if anything odd is around. I clear my throat. Seems okay to me… can a deaf person tell when they lose their voice? Weird concept…

And then Joe… he was nice. And cute, you have to admit that. Definitely cute. Those shoes were amazing- and that was a pretty nice watch… on nice,warm hands…whoa, cut! Did I say that? I shake my head and look at myself in the mirror.

Mousy brown hair. Muddy eyes. I have a small mole near my ear. Some freckles, and that just sucks, so I never completely tan like my mom does… I can't ever decide if I'm fat or not, too. I roll my eyes suddenly and laugh. What am I _doing? _Like I'd ever have a chance- why do I even think that?

I shake my head and absently stroke my neck, a habit of mine. That, and my ear. He didn't look that familiar… I'll have to look for him at school. No, no, I won't. He's gone. He was only talking to be nice, and all that. Heck, he might even be a freshman!

I snort. Yeah, right. He's my age, or older. I chew on my nail and turn on my ipod. I'm so glad I'm a senior and almost gone. I've been looking at colleges and most will allow disabled people. I turn on my laptop and get to work.

It's midnight and I'm trying to fall asleep when I suddenly realize something. The Joe guy- he still has my notebooks. I groan- including mine filled with art, and the other with lyrics. I'm ready to shoot myself- and then him.

But I can't do anything. I'll definitely have to look for him at school, then. I need those back! I stifle back some horror. What if he _looks _and _reads_ everything? I swallow and stuff my head under my pillows, wishing I could suffocate myself in embarrassment. Nothing can be done for now though. Eventually, I sleep.


End file.
